


Black Friday Blues

by Deathcomes4u



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: Angst, Egg Laying, Forced Orgasm, Other, Oviposition, Rape, Rape Aftermath, Rape Recovery, Sticky, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, forced carrying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-05
Updated: 2014-12-05
Packaged: 2018-02-28 06:33:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2722298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deathcomes4u/pseuds/Deathcomes4u
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on the TFA season 2 episode 'Black Friday' and covering into 'Sari, no one's home', this is a 'what if' scenario.</p>
<p>Black Arachnia decides that before she purges her organic half with Prometheus Black's help, she wants to put a special trick of hers to use. Because good help is so hard to find these days.<br/>It's therefore very convenient that a suitable bot, in the form of Bumblebee, falls into her clutches right when she needs a carrier.<br/>For her it's no big deal, for him it's a life changing experience... and not in a good way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Black Friday Blues

**Author's Note:**

> This piece of shit bunny came to me, was lain out in my mind, and completely written in less than a week.  
> I don't fucking know man, I've read way too many oviposition fics, and with my muse's current re-obsession with TFA, this came out of fucking nowhere and infected my head.
> 
> I think i've gotten it out of my system now. I don't even know why I read ovipositon stuff, it's some weird fascination I guess. So yeah I mean it's not great, what do you expect for something that I wrote in two days. The fun stuff (well, no, rape isn't fun, but it still reads like smut because he's... yeah you'll see, whatever) is all in the beginning. Then the squicky shit happens, then the rest is just angst fodder and pseudo happy ending.  
> I was never very good at short stories, now you get to see why. 
> 
> And if anyone wants to ask why I made this instead of working on the next chap of Repro, fucking don't. It's coming ya thirsty bitches, Hakuna your tatas. And please excuse the shitty fic title I was feeling particularly uncreative about titles this week.

Bumblebee came around sluggishly. His vision was blurry, focussing irises not responding at normal speed.

When they gradually slid his lenses into the right aperture, he could make out a lot of white. He refreshed his optics. The refreshed them again. Then tried to raise his head.

Something sticky was binding his jaw to his neck and shoulders, but it was elastic to a degree, and he managed to get a limited look around him.

It was a web… he was bound up in the sticky thread, so thick he couldn’t even see his plating through it. Straining, he tried to look for Prowl and spotted the gleam of his gold on black not far to his right. Caught in the same web then.

What had happened? Bumblebee racked his processor to remember… everything was kinda fuzzy, but there had been… pain, two sharp points of pain in his shoulders, from behind. He had no idea what had done it.

Some kinda freakish monster obviously. Webbing… webbing was spiders right? Oooh great, giant monster spider, he was gonna die a slow and painful death.

But on the bright side, giant spider monsters usually didn’t try to eat their victims until the hero showed up to try and save them, right?

_That’s only in movies idiot. Although, to be fair, so are giant spiders SUPPOSEDLY. Aw frag, I’m still screwed if Optimus or Ratchet or Bulkhead don’t show up. Oh, unless Prowl wakes up, he can do some kinda ninja trick to get us out I bet._

With nothing much else to do, Bumblebee struggled to see if he could break his bonds. It quickly became apparent that his grogginess wasn’t just from being knocked out. As he tried to move, his limbs felt weaker than normal, and his helm swum dizzily.

He stopped as his tank gave a dull churn. _Eugh, what is wrong with me?... Did I get drugged or something? Is that something giant spiders do?_

He tried to move his head again, thinking maybe he could at least get the stuff covering his mouth to slip off, when he felt something.

The web he was suspended on began to wobble and bounce, and looking up warily, his body stiffened. Oooooh slag there is was, giant mecha-spider, all purple and black and gol- wait a minute… he knew that spider…

“Blu-aruniuh” he murmured through the goop over his mouth. His bet with Prowl was the farthest thing from his meta, but since the ninja-bot was out like a light he figured it didn’t matter anyway. This was a deal breaker, you didn’t stay silent when a giant menacing techno-organic was hovering over you deciding on if you were a snack or not.

The giant spider chuckled, or, well… it was a series of clicks and murmuring that sounded like a chuckle.

Black Arachnia shifted into her root mode, climbing nimbly down to rest over his bound form. Four bright red optics glinting at him from under the crest of her helm. Bumblebee stared back, vents shaky and gaze wary bordering on frightened.

She was unpredictable, violent, ruthless… and he couldn’t move. He was at her mercy. He hoped that maybe she still had some.

“Uh yuh gunnu ee me?” he was slightly embarrassed by how high pitched his voice was, wondering if she even understood with his lack of articulation. If she didn’t, it was her own fault of course.

The femme just laughed, and this time it was a proper, spine tingling sound that made his energon run cold. A clawed servo reached up to caress his face, red optics amused by his attempt to jerk away from the touch. It was rather ineffectual given his limited range of motion.

“Awww honey, of course not. You’re not my favourite flavour. I have a completely different purpose for you. Sorry if I don’t take things slow, but I’m a little pressed for time. Places to go, people to see, organic parts to purge…”

He tried to focus on what she was saying, but his processor was still hazy, optics finding it difficult to focus on her face for long periods. As she spoke, her servos slid down his bound form and began to cut at a few strings while attaching new ones.

Eventually, he was facing the web, head turned in Prowl’s direction, and he squirmed slightly as she cut away the cocooning around his legs, only to re-secure them in different places.

“W-whu ah yuh dooin do me? Whu ii prull nod awage?”

“Chatty little thing aren’t you? I thought you were supposed to be keeping quiet for a bet?” she crooned in his audial as she continued to fiddle around securing his legs and strengthening her web.

“Huw dih yuh kno abuh-“

“Sweetspark I’ve been tracking all three of you since you arrived. Well, I only have to keep track of two of you now. I’ve sent dear Optimus off with that lug Grimlock to get me what I need. Once I have it, I can finally go about getting my proper robot form back. However…”

Bumblebee shuddered as he felt claws suddenly caress the inside of one thigh. He tried to close his legs, but he couldn’t move them at all now. Another chill ran down his spinal struts.

“While I still have this disgusting form, I figure I should put it to good use. Oh it has some neat little tricks, some I suppose I’ll miss, others not so much, and one in particular…” She caressed his shoulders with her two stinger arms, making him buck in his bonds to try and get away.

“A very interesting ability I discovered QUITE by accident on another planet. You know what I’m lacking? Decent, loyal help. Oh, the Dinobots have their uses, but they’re very stupid, and very clumsy. I need PROPER helpers, helpers that can’t, well, HELP but obey me.” She chuckled again, and this time it was a dark, foreboding sound.

Claws that had been tapping and caressing at Bumblebee’s panel suddenly dug into a seam and tore it open. He cried out, jerking in his bonds, optics wide, pale, overbright.

He strained his irises to look over his shoulder at her face. A malicious gleam was in her optics as she snarled, fangs glinting.

Claws slowly dipped into his valve, and he shivered, keening and squirming uselessly.

“Oh honey, this will be so much easier if you just give in. Trust me, you’ll enjoy it. Well, this part of it, as long as you just relax. I can promise you this is a once in a lifetime experience, you may as well make the most of it. Most bots would LOVE this kind of attention from me. ESPECIALLY your little boss Optimus~”

Words crooned softly in his audial had him shuddering, and though he was stiff and shaking in his bonds, Bumblebee could feel her claws being surprisingly gentle.

Despite himself, he let the sensations travel through his frame. Whatever was making him groggy and fuzzy-processored was making it too hard to struggle, and eventually her touches had him limp in his bonds, moaning weakly.

Slag it all she was talented… and he could never of failed to notice how beautiful she was, even as lethal as she was. His quivers of fear soon turned to shivers of pleasure as she teased deeper into his valve and his lubricant began to flow.

What did she want from him again? He had no idea, he’d lost concentration as she spoke. Maybe her organic side got off on… getting bots off? She sure was a manipulator, a flirt and a tease. Perhaps this was what it all lead to in privacy? Was she going to feed off the energy of his overload?

Because she was sure as slag going to get one pumping his valve like THAT. He keened and tilted his hips into the touches, hearing the wet squelch of his lubricant, feeling it run hot down the inside of his thigh as she hummed her approval.

The arousal only made his hazy mind grow foggier. His whole frame felt a little over-warm, and primus was he glad Prowl was still out like a light because he couldn’t have hidden how slagging turned on he was right now.

Oh he knew he shouldn’t be… somewhere in his processor he knew he shouldn’t, but that wonderful fog just chased that part of him away until all he could think about was _please, please oh please yes more._

She gave another low chuckle, and he realised he’d said that out loud.

“Ooooh sweetspark, I’ll give you more… so much more… and you’ll give it aaaall back to me later. If only your little friend over there had the same frame type as you, I’d be doubly lucky, but oh well… You should give me enough.”

Bumblebee wanted to ask ‘enough of what?’, but suddenly her claws were gone, and something else was prodding at his port entrance.

He squirmed and gave a needy whine. He didn’t care what it was, he just wanted it in there and feeding the fire in his belly that was his charge generator.

He never remembered feeling this aroused by so little foreplay… it was like some kind of drug running through his lines, heightening every touch to a level of bliss he’d never experienced before.

When she began to press into him, he couldn’t stop the loud, wanton moan he gave through his gag of webbing. It felt small, but the deeper she went, the thicker it got, until some sort of knot was pressing at his entrance.

Optics widening, he keened as she continued to press, port stretching as the thick base of her spike entered him with a loud, slick sound. He bucked against her, optics shuttering. Ooooh frag was he ever glad Prowl was offline.

He felt so full that his own spike popped free and pressurised from the intensity of the sensation. It was trapped, straining against webbing but he didn’t care, because she started to _move._

The texture of her spike was like nothing he’d ever felt before, and he ignored the nagging voice somewhere in the back of his mind screaming that this was wrong. She was right. He’d never feel anything like this again. He needed to drink in every intense wave of pleasure she had to offer.

Her thrusts were lazy, and the tip of the tapered spike tapped his ceiling node every time. She pressed in harder with a rumble of her engine and a series of soft clicks, grinding against those nodes until he was crying out in overload.

His clenching valve made her feel even bigger as she pressed in hard. His lubricant flowed freely, and as his overload peaked and she gave a particularly forceful thrust, something gave way. Bumblebee let out a chocked sound as her spike seemed to press DEEPER.

That… that was not entirely comfortable, nor had it ever happened before. The still wary part of him sent a shock of fear through his systems. That fear was soon buried once more in pleasure as the spike began to EXPAND.

He already had a size-kink that she was fulfilling awfully well… but this was something else. It was as if her spike was flaring and contracting within him, over and over, scaly protrusions scraping over his nodes. The head of her spike didn’t move from the deepest recess it had penetrated.

Behind him, he could hear her vents panting, and she let out a low, guttural moan, spike flaring all the way and stretching him to his limit. And then he felt hot fluid gush through him.

It triggered another overload, and he squealed as the transfluid hit nodes he’d never even felt before, warmth pooling low in his abdomen as she filled him. Bumblebee felt the warmth of that transfluid sliding down his thighs, but not as much as he’d expect.

He didn’t really think about that though, not when he was in the middle of a dizzying overload. Just as it died down into an incredible glow, sensors in his valve picked up MORE movement.

He gasped and keened in short, sharp breaths as her spike did SOMETHING. It was as if… as if something hot and solid and thick was moving up into him, hitting those deepest of nodes he’d never felt before.

Bumblebee became senseless with the heat and sensation and the fuzz in his processor and frame. With every one of those… those MOVEMENTS inside him, he would overload, engine torqueing and spike twitching, leaking constantly.

After the sixth, he was well and truly spent, limp in his bonds. Thankfully, she seemed spent too, heat pouring off her frame behind him. She groaned and began to pull out, wet sounds and slick fluids echoing loudly in Bumblebee’s audials as his over-used and over-stimulated valve was finally empty.

Primus he was so tired… that was… that was amazing, but he didn’t know WHY she’d chosen him… why it had felt like that, why he still couldn’t quite think straight. He onlined optics he hadn’t realised he’d offlined, and saw the still slack faceplates if Prowl.

He should probably try to wake him… but he couldn’t move his arm. He couldn’t really move anything. He was so tired and exhausted…

“Mmmmm very good… you get some rest now sweetie, you’ve got a very important job to do. Don’t go getting into any trouble between now and when I come back for what’s mine, will you?” She pat his helm as she cleaned up.

Bee made an incomprehensible sound before a swift jab of one of her stingers rendered him unconscious.

* * *

 

When he’d woken up, Bumblebee didn’t remember anything that had happened between himself and Black Arachnia. Not at first.

It was while they had been travelling back home that he’d felt… odd. His abdomen ached a little, and his valve twinged. The sensations brought up flashes… things that felt like a dream.

When he’d gotten back to base he’d been tired. He’d taken a cube and skipped Ratchet’s examination saying he felt fine. The medic had, for once, taken pity due to how close he looked to falling into stasis.

Surely his scans would be the same as Prowl’s, since the two of them had been through the same thing, and Prowl came up clean. So why should Ratchet worry about him?

After slogging down his cube and passing out for a few cycles, Bumblebee felt a little clearer in the helm.

The memories still felt unreal though. He racked his processor throughout the afternoon, trying to recall the details. He wouldn’t have believed it had happened if his valve didn’t now hurt as much as it did.

Should he go to Ratchet?...

If it was really bad, he would have to. Maybe he should check…

Grabbing a mirror, he sat on the edge of his berth and angled it between his legs, opening his panel. What he saw made him grimace.

The platelets at his entrance were a little torn. The tiny interlocking pieces had been unseated, but his self-repairs could fix that up. He could only inspect deeper aches by slipping a digit inside, hissing as he did.

The sensors were raw, but he couldn’t feel any tears or abnormalities. When he pulled his finger out, it was slicked with a little lubricant… and something else.

The silvery-blue of transfluid was unmistakeable. It HAD happened.

He’d been raped. And he’d… he’d _enjoyed_ it.

Bumblebee felt light headed and sick, tanks churning. He staggered to his garbage can and purged into it.

He couldn’t… he couldn’t go to Ratchet. How could he explain this? How could he ask for… what would he even be asking for? Help? Understanding?

She’d forced herself on him and he’d ENJOYED it. His injuries would heal themselves, what did he need to go confessing to Ratchet for? Just so the medic could be as disgusted with him as he was?

No. No he wouldn’t tell anyone. He wouldn’t think about it. He’d forget it. No one would know except him and Black Arachnia, and she’d disappeared as far as Optimus had told it.

And that… bloated, warm feeling in his abdomen would sort itself out. It didn’t hurt, so he didn’t need to worry about it…

He took several deep, calming ventilations, trying to stop his frame from shaking.

_It’s fine… it’s fine, no one will know… just forget about it, act normal, it will fix itself, no one has to know…_

* * *

 

The discomfort in his abdomen stayed, but it never seemed bad enough to make him desperate enough to go to Ratchet. He didn’t notice himself feeling hungrier. He wrote his difficulty recharging off on the fact he was still trying to forget what happened.

The more he suppressed the memories, the more ashamed he became of himself. He ruthlessly supressed the hazy recollections, felt sick whenever he remembered just how good it felt, loathed himself for even thinking about it.

On the outside, he was the same. If anything, he was more exuberant, more annoying than ever, in order to compensate, to cover, to make sure they didn’t suspect anything.

It worked so well that he started to fool himself when he wasn’t alone. The ache in his abdomen didn’t mean anything if he was fighting Decepticons and playing videogames loudly and doing his best to wind Prowl up.

When his frame started to have unusual issues, he wrote it off, covered it up, made out he was fine. The LAST thing he needed was a trip to Ratchet when whatever SHE had done to him hadn’t healed yet.

If Ratchet scanned him, he’d find out. He’d KNOW.

Bumblebee couldn’t let that happen.

Even if he was leaking copious amounts of oil all over the place as they chased down Mixmaster and Scrapper.

Blitzwing popping out of nowhere was a welcome distraction, but even then he had to be so careful, had to make sure he didn’t get too hurt.

Anything more than a few scratches and he’d be dragged into the medbay the moment they got back.

As it was, he didn’t even make it to the medbay before Ratchet had cause for concern.

They’d all made it back to the plant. On the drive back, he’d been feeling a little dizzy, and chalked it up to the oil leak. Low oil pressure often had that effect, right? He’d just have a barrel when he got back, nanites had already patched his leak, it was no big deal…

The sharper, clenching pains in his pelvis were related to it, surely? Lack of energy flow to the components, that was all. He’d felt worse.

Transforming up had been a chore. Standing still and concentrating on the conversation was too. He was more concerned though for Sari than he was for himself. So he’d ignored the dizziness, ignored the sharper pains, ignored the warning in his HUD… oh… wait, if there was a warning that couldn’t be good…

“Bumblebee! What’s wrong with him?”

Sari’s voice, so confident and proud moments before, had become high-pitched with anxiety. Prowl had caught the scout as he staggered and collapsed.

Bumblebee gasped and clutched at his abdomen, optics paling in panic.

“Bee! Oh man, I told you, you shoulda gotten that leak fixed when I said!” Despite the chastising, Bulkhead’s tone was as worried as Sari’s, and Ratchet side-stepped them both to crouch by the scout as his vents whirred, heaving air through his rapidly warming frame.

“This has nothing to do with a little oil leak. Come on, help me get him to the medbay.”

Bumblebee made a small, panicked sound. “No! I-I’m fine, I swear, I don’t nee- Agh!” even as he babbled, trying to worm his way out of Prowl’s hold, he curled over himself. The pains were quickly becoming less bearable.

“Fine my skid-plate. Medbay. NOW.”

Once they had him in there on the medical slab, it was hard for Bumblebee to lie flat, still clutching at his abdomen, trying to curl in on himself, shuddering more from fear than the pain.

“Prowl, help me hold him still long enough for a scan.” Ratchet murmured, brows drawn together with concern at the whimper Bumblebee let out.

The ninja-bot had a hard time trying to coax him into lying back, realising at the same time Ratchet did that the scout was doing it on purpose.

Rather than make the medic mad, he only became more concerned. “Kid, c’mon, why are you fighting me so much? I’m tryin’ to fix you, work with me here.”

Bumblebee just whined and shook his helm, optics offline. Whatever Black Arachnia had done, it was bad. But in his pain-addled processor, all it added up to was that when they found out, they’d be sickened by him.

Ratchet, thinking that maybe the injury had scrambled the scout’s senses a bit, got Optimus over to help. It took little effort for him and Prowl to lay Bumblebee out together. The small yellow bot stopped fighting them only because the pain was reaching levels where he couldn’t process doing anything more than just enduring it.

“I… I don’t believe this… _how?..._ ”

Ratchet’s stunned voice drew Bumblebee’s attention once the pains abated slightly, and he looked over at the monitors.

Scans of his frame showed something even he knew shouldn’t be there. Several somethings. It certainly explained the discomfort. It also made him feel intensely sick.

Optimus jumped out of the way as he jerked violently, rolling to the edge of the berth and purging his tanks.

“Ratchet what’s happening to him, what’s wrong? Should I use my key?”

“No, Sari, no… this… this is something I don’t think your key is gonna fix. Bulkhead, you need to get her outta here, Optimus you go with them. Prowl, I need you to stay here and help me, you’re the one with the knowledge about organic stuff.”

Sari complained loudly about being made to leave, but Optimus putting his foot down in his most authoritarian tone had her complying. Bulkhead said nothing, but his optics were wide, confused and worried.

Optimus was fairly quick on the uptake. And he’d noticed the scout being… a little less than normal since their run in with Black Arachnia.

It didn’t really take a genius to work out that something organic being inside something Techtronic would have something to do with her. How? He had no idea. But as soon as Ratchet assured him the scout would be alright, he was going to go and find out.

In the medbay, things had gone from weird to downright bizarre for Bumblebee. Not to mention embarrassing as all slag.

His panel had sprung open of its own accord, another sharp pain heralding a rush of fluid that was all over the berth. He was keening in panic and clawing at his abdomen now.

He might have seen the eggs on the scan, but that didn’t mean he understood what was happening.

“Prowl, clue me in here, what’s the organic modus operandi for this?” Ratchet tried to stay as calm as possible, but beyond realising that those eggs had one way to go to get out, he didn’t know anything about how to help them get there.

The ninja-bot was laudably cool headed in the face of such a bizarre circumstance. Bumblebee turned desperate, frightened optics to him, as anxious to know as the medic.

“Uhhm… well… the fluid would be there to assist in… laying the eggs, I suppose. Usually, an organic that lays eggs does so in a more upright position…”

“Well, let’s get him into one then.” Ratchet murmured, he and Prowl both helping the yellow mech upright.

Bumblebee keened and curled over himself, pain shooting through him as he felt something inside him move.

“I… need… I need… down… just…. NNGHHA!”

Prowl moved with Bumblebee as he writhed and tried to get off the berth. It was difficult figuring out what he needed, but eventually the scout got himself into the position it seemed he felt he needed to be.

He was sort of squatting, Prowl holding most of his weight with arms wrapped up under the scout’s shoulders. Bumblebee’s back was pressed to the swell of his chestplates, yellow and black servos clutching his arms and shaking.

Prowl could feel the tremors and shunting of internals as Bumblebee’s frame geared up to its task. Memories of several documentaries played through his processor.

“You have to push Bumblebee, but only when you feel those pains… I think. If eggs are anything like live births…”

Bumblebee keened in frustration, frame feeling too hot even as his fans whirred on high. “Can’t… Ratch… can’t you just… take them out?”

The medic, who was kneeling in front of him, running constant scans and referring back to his screens every few nanos, shook his helm.

“I would if I had any idea what I was dealing with, but I can’t risk hurting you by trying to operate when I’ve got no idea how this is supposed to go down. Clearly it’s not like a sparkling.”

“Oh, well, slagging CLEARLY! AAGHNNNH!” Bumblebee snapped, back bowing and legs shaking hard as a strong wave of pain hit him. The only thing he could do was follow Prowl’s instruction. As soon as he did, he felt things inside him shift.

With a keen, he felt one of the eggs press its way slowly out of his gestation tank into his valve. Lubricants dribbled from his port, helping and heralding the large, oval object.

It sat heavy and hard in his valve until another wave of pain and another push slid it down further.

“I see it… I see the first one, push it Bumblebee…”

The scout just did as he was told, and with a disgusting schlurping sound and a jerk of his hips, it slid out of him.

It might have felt unprimusly good going in, but it sure as slag didn’t coming out. It was large, much larger than Black Arachnia’s spike had been… except he realised now that it wasn’t quite a spike.

He’d felt these being put in him… he hadn’t realised it at the time, but this… THIS was what she wanted him for, to carry her… her SPAWN.

He dry heaved, tank already too empty and systems too strained for anything to come up. Another sickening wave of pain had him pushing and crying out as the second egg slid down into his valve, the stretch a little more painful than the first.

He had NOT been prepared for this. NO ONE could be prepared for this. He whimpered as the egg sat heavy, hard and uncomfortable in his valve between the waves of nauseating pain.

When he pushed it down to the entrance of his port, he felt platelets tear a little. It bothered him a lot less than the ache in his abdomen as pressure changed and another egg began to push its way down before Ratchet had even finished extracting the second.

This one got jammed halfway through the gestation chamber inlet, and he wailed, the sensation unbearable. Prowl’s calm voice in his audial told him to relax, to flex his backstruts.

To try and work through the agony, he did as he was told, and incrementally the egg shifted, until it finally slid free down his valve.

Of course, he had one slag of a time getting it out at the other end of his port too. Legs shaking like mad, he tried to push his callipers as hard as he could, but it sat there, stretching him, tearing him worse.

Ratchet couldn’t get a proper grip on the round, slippery end of it to help pull it out either. It sat there as another egg made its way down.

Having two in his valve at once was excruciating beyond belief. He jerked and screamed, he would have thrashed if he had the energy.

He went limp in Prowl’s steely hold and sobbed, clicking like a sparkling. Prowl’s helm nuzzled into the back of his own. He murmured something, but Bumblebee couldn’t process it. The soothing tone was enough to make him relax minutely.

Another wave of pain was soon upon him, and with a guttural scream and an almighty effort, he pushed both eggs out, one forcing the other out and quickly following with a gush of fluid.

“One more Bumblebee, come on, just one more, you can do it.” Ratchet’s low, slightly anxious tone penetrated his pain frazzled processor, and he nodded weakly, feeling the egg starting to breach into his valve.

This one was as wide as the one which had gotten stuck, and longer to boot. He writhed and arched and bucked to get it down into his valve. When it got there, his port walls spasmed and he keened. Something had torn, he knew it. But he couldn’t stop.

His focus narrowed down to moving the behemoth of an egg through and out of him. He pushed, and writhed, and screamed in agony, Prowl and Ratchet’s low encouraging tones audible between his own vocalisations.

A third of the egg stuck out of his valve now, and a trail of energon leaking out around its edges was proof of the damage it had done him. He went limp in Prowl’s arms for several moments, whole body shaking hard.

“One last, big push to get this one out. Are you ready?” Prowl murmured to him, adjusting his hold and lifting him a little higher so he had more room to move his hips.

“It’s alright kid, just this last one and then you can rest. Nice long rest and I’ll fix everything up, don’t even worry about it. I can see the next energy spike coming, ready for it?”

Bumblebee, panting and keening, nodded after a moment. He felt it too. An almighty build-up of pressure and roiling, burning pain in his lines and he was suddenly bowing his back, pressing into Prowl and making a raw, animalistic sound.

The huge egg tore ruthlessly at the platelets of his entrance, but it left him. He was spent. Finally… FINALLY he was empty.

He gave a chocked sob and went limp in Prowl’s hold, optics dim and half shuttered as liquids continued to leak from him.

There was no room left within the yellow mech’s processor to care. He didn’t resist as Prowl lifted him and gently laid him on his back on the berth.

Bumblebee was dimly aware of Prowl petting his helm soothingly before he slipped into unconsciousness.

* * *

 

“…ly that he knew SOMETHING was wrong with him, but I doubt he knew what it was. The look on his face when I did that scan tells me it was as much a shock to him as to the rest of us. Poor kid. Six. SIX of the damn things he had to push out. Tore his insides up. Gestation chamber was a pit of a job to clean out. Whatever she has in the way of transfluid, it’s not normal.”

Bumblebee could hear Ratchet’s gruff murmur through the haze of a slow onlining. He didn’t think to check his chronometer, concentrating on the voices and the conversation. It was about him, that was about as much as he knew while memory circuits were still initialising.

“So we’re sure it was her?... Why though, WHY would she do this? And if she did… while she had him and Prowl… Primus, he probably wasn’t even conscious, and I just can’t… she’s bad, but I never thought her capable of THIS. It’s beyond reprehensible, it’s _sick.”_

_…Sick?_

Bumblebee’s memories tumbled into place, and suddenly he was the one feeling sick.

No… he had certainly not been unconscious. For what it was worth, he kinda wished he had been. That would be less agonising to think about than the fact he’d not even struggled… the fact he’d let her bring him to more mind-blowing overloads than he could count.

Yeah, well… he’d certainly reaped what he’d sewn now, hadn’t he?

Wait…

Wait she had said something about that…

“I’ve already tried to track her down, but it was useless. When she doesn’t want to be found, there’s no way of tracking her.” Optimus rumbled in displeasure.

“She’ll come here.”

The medic and Prime both turned to the prone yellow form on the berth. Bumblebee had half onlined his optics, the dim blue staring stonily at the ceiling.

“… What do you mean Bumblebee? How do you know?” Ratchet’s voice was softer and kinder than he ever remembered hearing it. It made him cringe inside. He didn’t deserve that sympathy.

“She wants them. She’ll come and get them. I was… I was just a carrier.”

His vocaliser cracked slightly, and he turned his helm away so they couldn’t see it… only to meet the gaze of one black and gold cyber-ninja.

He just wanted to curl up and disappear. As it was, curling up wasn’t an option, because moving wasn’t an option. He’d flinched as Prowl made to touch his shoulder and hissed as pain blossomed from his midsection.

“Don’t try to move Bumblebee. Your internals took a bit of a battering, your gestation chamber is all outta shape and, frankly, I’m surprised you weren’t in here complaining about it sooner.”

Ratchet was on the other side of the berth now, taking readings again and hovering his servo over key areas of his frame.

“Mmmm. Still running a little warm, but you’ll recover soon enough. Physically… at least.” He murmured.

Bumblebee’s throat tubing clenched and he tried to find somewhere to look that wasn’t somebot else.

Prowl’s servo shifted from his shoulder to gently run over his helm in a soothing gesture. It was… slightly bizarre since they weren’t exactly close. But then, the ninja-bot had just held him and helped him through the gruelling ordeal of getting those eggs out.

He screwed up his optics. He didn’t want to think about it. Shame flooded every node in his system and he felt sick again.

“Here, Prowl, help me sit him up. Bumblebee, you need to drink this. You did all that on an empty tank, and your protoform and other systems were cannibalised by those things growing in you. This stuff’s a bit rich, but it’ll help.”

He unshuttered his optics, grunting and wincing as Prowl and Ratchet lifted him to sit up enough to drink. A cube of sickly purple liquid was brought to his lip-plates, and he drank, feeling ravenous the moment it hit his empty tanks.

It didn’t take him long to finish it off, and they settled him back down on the part of the berth that propped his torso up a little, allowing him to look around better.

When Ratchet moved, he caught sight of a big crate under a lamp by the monitors. The objects within it were round and metallic, a mottled yellow and purple over silver.

He quickly looked away again. Did he seriously want anything to do with those? Were they… did they even have anything to DO with him beyond robbing his systems to grow?

Ratchet caught the look on Bumblebee’s face and shared a glance with Optimus. “Bee… I’m assuming you didn’t come in and get yourself checked out because you had SOME idea that something was wrong and… guessing you didn’t want me to know she’d done something to you?”

Bumblebee scowled and looked down at his servos where they rested over his still achy abdomen. He just nodded.

“It was when she had us both as collateral against Optimus, wasn’t it?” Prowl asked gently from his right.

Bumblebee shuddered at the memory, shame once again blooming across his spark, making him cringe.

“She raped me, alright?... Of course I didn’t say anything, I didn’t want ANYONE to know because I-“

His vocaliser wavered and broke, and he silenced himself. How could he say it? How could he admit to giving in and letting himself enjoy it? HOW could he enjoy having six eggs forced into his gestation chamber… he was sick, he was disgusted with himself, why would he ever admit to anyone what had really happened that night.

A large servo rested gently on his shoulder and he glanced up at Optimus. His leader’s face was an unreadable mixture of emotions, the main one being pity.

“It’s alright Bumblebee. No one is judging you for this. You didn’t ask for it and you couldn’t have prevented it, not with poison in your system.”

Ratchet made a noise that had the other three turning to look at him. “Eeehr. What she gave them wasn’t actually poison. I analysed what was left of that anti-venom so I could make more just in case… she gave them something that knocked them out in large doses… I guess a big enough dose might weaken your spark, but in small doses… it’s actually a kind of relaxant-slash-stimulant. Keeps you drowsy and weak, makes your nodes hyper-sensitive.”

The medic’s optics met Bumblebee’s and he felt like his tank dropped out. His servos came up to cover his faceplate and he shuddered.

He heard Ratchet shuffle over and before he knew it, he was… being embraced. His shuddering intensified.

“It wasn’t your fault Bumblebee. You couldn’t have controlled your reaction if you tried, there’s nothing wrong with you, don’t feel ashamed for being the victim. If she hadn’t put that stuff in your systems, she never woulda been able to get those things into you. There’s nothing you coulda done to fight it.”

Bumblebee let out a small, broken keen and shook his helm, but Ratchet didn’t let go. He just held him while he shivered and clicked. He was mortified by how easily Ratchet could put together the pieces and figure out what had happened to him that night… how receptive he must have been.

He was disgusted, he felt filthy and wrong and tainted. “Please… please tell me they’re not… they’re not mine…”

The medic’s arms tightened around him a little more. “…I’m sorry Bumblebee, but… they used your CNA… they drew energy from your spark, they’re… they’re as much yours as hers. You weren’t just a host, you were a carrier in the proper sense. Even though she didn’t need to join with your spark.”

Bumblebee shook his helm and whined, servos balling into fists. He didn’t want this, he wasn’t ready for ANYTHING like this…

* * *

 

Bumblebee sat in the medbay next to the crate and its heat-lamp. None of them actually knew if the eggs NEEDED the heat lamp, but Prowl had said it was common and they should keep them under it as a precaution.

Spiders didn’t typically incubate their eggs. But then Spiders didn’t typically shove six oval shaped giant eggs into a host body, they put them in sacs or something.

Bumblebee didn’t really care. He wasn’t even sure he wanted them to hatch. He wasn’t sure he wanted them to survive, and that scared him. He wasn’t cold sparked. But he wasn’t prepared for this… any of it.

He didn’t know how he was supposed to be carrier to six… six _freaks._ Because that’s what they were, they were freaks, and he knew it. They all knew it.

Black Arachnia was a freak. Sure, she was still enough of a bot to be intelligent, and attractive, and a rapist…

But that was another problem he had with the whole thing. It was hard enough for him to come to terms with the fact his enjoyment of the ordeal had been forced on him as well. But he was also expected to be a caring progenitor to these… abominations that had been forced into him against his will.

And it WAS against his will, he reminded himself. Her venom had made him pliant, Ratchet had explained that had she not dosed him with it, his gestation chamber would never have opened, and forcing it to, forcing things into it, would have been excruciatingly painful.

It was cold comfort. Forcing things OUT of it had been excruciatingly painful. He felt he would have been better able to process his ordeal if it had hurt in the first place rather than felt good.

What was more, he might have actually gone to Ratchet before it was too late… because it was the fear of questions, of Ratchet finding out he had overloaded several times during the whole thing… that was what had kept him away. His shame had kept him away.

His shame was the reason he was now staring at the six objects he couldn’t believe had been inside him this whole time.

They looked far too big to of come out through his valve, and it certainly explained the tearing. He winced at the thought. His valve was still healing, and still twinged when he moved certain ways. The ache in his abdomen had abated somewhat, but he still felt sluggish and heavy.

Ratchet assured him there was nothing left inside that shouldn’t be there. He’d completely cleaned out the tank while he’d been unconscious. Everything was spick and span internally, or so he’d been told.

He still felt dirty. He reached out a shaking servo and touched one of the mottled ovals tentatively.

It was very smooth. He reached over with his other servo and picked it up. It was incredibly heavy for its size, and quite warm under its heat lamp.

When it twitched he nearly dropped it, setting it back beside the others and drawing back slightly, wary of them.

On the one servo, he wanted them to become damaged somehow… to become unviable on their own, to just not hatch…

But a fiercely protective part of him knew he couldn’t let any harm come to them. They had his metal, and his spark, and whatever else in them was hers, HE had carried them. HE had gone through the ordeal of expelling them. HE had been what she needed to give them life, and he wasn’t prepared to let her take them after all the work he’d done.

The prospect of actually caring for them if they hatched scared the slag out of him.

Prowl had given his word he’d help, and he was probably more qualified than Bumblebee to do so since he understood a lot more about protoforms and younglings and bugs.

Oh, that was something else entirely. Bumblebee was sure he’d seen a glint of fear, the tiniest glimmer, in Optimus’ optics when he looked at these eggs.

Even though Optimus wasn’t scared of Black Arachnia (absolutely furious with her after this, but not afraid) he was still arachnophobic to some degree.

Clearly the thought of cybertronian spider-hybrids running around the base made him wary.

That was about the only amusing point of the whole ordeal Bumblebee could find.

He watched the eggs a little longer, a few of them twitching now and then like the one he’d picked up. He sighed, dragging himself to his pedes. Before he turned to leave, he paused, tentatively stretching a servo out to brush over each of them in turn before leaving.

* * *

 

“They’re gone!”

Ratchet came running into the main room, startling Bumblebee out of the light doze he’d ended up in on the couch.

Sari, beside him, tore her gaze from the cartoon she’d been watching, and gave him a confused look. “What’s gone? Who’s gone?”

“The eggs!”

Bumblebee stiffened, looking at Ratchet with a blank sort of shock. He felt… numb. Shouldn’t he feel something more than that?

His eggs. His eggs had been taken. The eggs his body had been cannibalised for, the eggs he’d spent all that effort pushing out. The eggs he’d just started wrapping his head around the concept of caring for.

She’d stolen them.

Oh, there was the other emotion…

He was angry.

“Bee, NO, don’t even think about it. Your systems aren’t healed enough to go running after her.” Ratchet strode over and put a servo on his shoulder, as much to stop him getting to his feet and tearing out of there as to comfort him.

“HOW Ratchet? How could she get in here without ANY of us knowing?” he growled through grit denta, servos balled into fists.

Bulkhead, over on the monitors, seemed to be freaking out quietly. “I don’t… I don’t know! I’ve been watching these like a gearhawk, I swear! I didn’t see anything, no alarms went off, nothin!”

Sari was standing on the couch, looking between all of them. She had been allowed to see the eggs only once, and as curious as she’d been, she’d been told not to press Bumblebee for answers.

She hadn’t, seeing for herself the pained and odd look that came over her friend’s face whenever the subject came up.

“Where are Prowl and Optimus?” She asked.

“They’re on Patrol, they’ve been trying to catch her in case she came back. Clearly she’s slipperier than we realised. I’m gonna put a call out to them, see if they can’t track her and get them back before she returns to whatever hidey hole she’s been in.” Ratchet huffed.

“Do you have any idea WHEN she got in?” Bulkhead had gone back to looking over the monitors and reviewing his footage from the last few hours.

“Anywhere between about 6 and 8 o clock. I was working in and out of the medbay.”

Bumblebee sank back down in his seat and scrubbed a servo over his faceplate, Ratchet squeezing his shoulder before moving over to help Bulkhead scan the footage.

Bumblebee could hear him speaking over the comms to Prowl and Optimus, but he was too busy trying to sort out his own emotions to really listen.

A tiny hand touched his arm and he looked down at Sari’s worried face. “You OK Bee?”

His throat tubing clenched as if there was a lump in it, talking around it was hard.

“I don’t… I don’t know. I wanna do SOMETHING but I… there’s nothing I CAN do. I haven’t been able to do anything about any of this.”

He leant forward and buried his faceplate in his servos. His spark _hurt,_ and he wished it wouldn’t. He wished he cared less, He wished part of him wasn’t relieved that she’d taken them.

He also hated that he had already formed some kind of attachment to the eggs when he never wanted them in the first place. When all they did was remind him of what she’d done to him, of how helpless he was.

Now the loss of them was just as much of a reminder of how helpless he felt. A tiny pair of arms wrapping around his arm only made him feel marginally better. But it was the only tiny pair of arms he thought he’d ever feel clutching to him.

* * *

 

Three weeks. It had been three weeks, and finally Ratchet had allowed him to start going back on patrols again.

Three weeks since the eggs had been taken. His confusion and low burning feeling of injustice had levelled out, but he still hadn’t wrapped his mind and spark around the core of his emotions and determined what he wanted.

He hadn’t talked to any of them about it. They’d prodded, now and then, but he wasn’t comfortable discussing any of it with them.

Prowl tried the hardest to help him… Bumblebee supposed it was some kind if transference of guilt, since Prowl had been there but not suffered the same fate. Had been useless and unable to help him.

For what it was worth, Bumblebee didn’t blame Prowl. Nor did he think Bulkhead should continue to wish it had been him instead, since he was the only other member of the team with a gestation tank.

As Bumblebee had pointed out, he would only of had to deal with more eggs in all likelihood. Six, he assured him, was bad enough.

His friend had only been trying to help in whatever way he could, but he was not good at it. He only stopped when Bumblebee snapped at him to quit bringing it up because he didn’t need reminding of the whole thing.

And he really didn’t. Despite the fact it had now been six weeks in total since Black Arachnia had forced herself on him, the shame and disgust was as strong as ever. The nightmares still woke him, and his abdomen still gave twinges of pain at the very thought of those eggs being put in there.

He didn’t really know how to cope beyond trying to get back to how things used to be. It was impossible though, when the only duty he’d been allowed to do was monitors, and the others kept looking at him with sympathy and treating him like he was fragile.

Clearly he wasn’t. Well… maybe emotionally, since little things seemed to upset him or make him draw into himself far too easily. But he tried to go back to normal. He really tried. THEY were the ones making it worse.

Frag it all, he’d been knocked up, carried while going about his normal duties, and he’d popped those eggs out and until he did, he’d dealt with it all alone. He was NOT weak. Stupid sure, but not weak.

At least Sari didn’t treat him like porcelain or make a big deal out of things. He caught her giving him sad looks, now and then, but for the most part he could relax around her. She never brought it up. She always kept him distracted, she treated him like normal.

Which was why he was so surprised when she came into his room one afternoon and put her hands on her hips, face set in determination and asked “Are you gonna go after your babies or not?”

Bumblebee had done a double take, blinking at her as if she’d malfunctioned. “Sari… wh-what?”

“I SAID. Are you gonna go after them or not? I know she made you have them and you didn’t want to, but they’re YOURS too. YOU did all the work, why should she keep them? Why haven’t you tried going out there and getting them?”

Bumblebee stared at her with his mouth slightly open. It took him a few moments to process her question properly. None of the others were ever quite so blunt about asking him his feelings on the eggs, and he’d never really given them straight answers.

Those brown eight-year-old eyes demanded one of him though, and he reset his vocaliser as he tried to form a proper response.

“I… Ratchet’s only just given me the all-clear to leave the base?”

She didn’t seem satisfied with that, and crossed her arms. “Since when do you care about what Ratchet says you can and can’t do?”

He frowned slightly. “Since my insides got really messed up and I don’t want to rupture anything because I’m not a medic and have no idea how bad the damage was?”

She blinked and wilted slightly. “Mmm. Guess you have a good point. But still, were you even PLANNING to go after her?”

Bumblebee frowned slightly. “Yeah because I totally have an idea of where she’s hiding and I really wanna risk getting stabbed by her again.”

Sarcasm dripped from every word, but it was a familiar tone to her. He was using that sarcasm to cover his anxiety.

“Do you… do you even want them? Do you even care about them?”

“Of COURSE I care about them, I slagging had to help make them, there’s bits of ME in them, but there’s nothing I can DO! I don’t know where she took them, and I… I don’t even know if I could take care of them.”

It was his turn to wilt. “Sari… if I took them back somehow, assuming I could even do that… I wouldn’t know what to do with them. I’m not… I’m not sure I’m even ready to raise sparklings or… or whatever they are, I don’t even know what they ARE.”

“They’re yours, whatever they are.” She was insistent, and wandered over to climb onto his berth and get more on par with his helm height. “Listen Bee… you think she’s gonna give them a better life? You think she’s gonna do a better job and raising them than you? You already know she’s crazy, and nasty. Why let her raise them to be mini psychos like her when you’ve got a whole family here who would help you do it better?”

Bumblebee pulled a face at that. Sari had a point. Black Arachnia was nuts… and she’d have no trouble raising whatever it was she’d made him create in her own image. A vague memory came to him… drones, hadn’t she said something about drones? Is that all she thought of them? Not her bitlets but her slave sparklings?

That was wrong on so many levels. No. No, Sari was right… How could he let her have them? Why wasn’t he doing anything?

“How am I gonna do it though? I have no idea where she is, and I couldn’t take her on alone.”

“Who said anything about taking her on? OR doing it alone? You got ME on your side. She snuck them away from here, we can sneak them away from HER” She puffed herself up, hands on hips again.

“Uh… no offense Sari, but I don’t think you’d do a lot better against her than I did. And I… I don’t think I could face her alone… I don’t… what if she did the same thing to me all over again?” He shuddered at the thought and drew in on himself. He’d already had enough nightmares about THAT.

“You don’t have to go alone.”

His helm jerked up. Standing in the doorway was Prowl. As ever, Bumblebee hadn’t heard him, or seen him. He didn’t know how long he’d listened in on their conversation.

“SEE Bee? I told you, the others aren’t going to let you handle this on your own.” Sari beamed at him.

The yellow mech looked between them. “Do you… do we even have any idea where she is? Is Optimus on board with this?”

Prowl wandered in and sat on the other side of him to Sari. “I have some idea. But I think… with the right technique, you could probably find them yourself.”

Bumblebee gave him a perplexed look. “What? How?”

A black and gold servo came up and tapped his chestplate lightly. “They have a bond to your spark. Half of what they are came from you. The link may not be strong, but it will be there. If you concentrate, if you learn to feel for them, you’ll find them.”

* * *

 

As it turned out, Optimus was not on board with the idea. Suggestions to launch a full scale attempt to get the bitlets back immediately were met with ‘we need to plan this out carefully and not go running off half-cocked’.

Which just meant the three of them nodded and made themselves look pliant before planning their mission in secret.

It was decided unanimously that they couldn’t bring Bulkhead along because they needed to do this stealthily, and they couldn’t ask Ratchet because he had already sided with Optimus.

That also meant that they had three bots they could try to call if something went wrong. Sari’s job, it was decided, was to come along and remain hidden as a look out, so that if Black Arachnia did detect them and things went wrong, she could call for help.

The only preparation they needed then, really, was for Prowl to teach Bumblebee how to FIND the bitlets.

Trying to learn to meditate was bad enough in its own right as far as he was concerned. But trying to get rid of the emotions constantly swirling and waring in his spark was a whole other ball game.

It took several attempts over three days and some serious spiritual lessons from Prowl before Bumblebee even came close. When he did, it was so bizarre it threw him off immediately.

But he’d felt it… felt that alien presence at the edge of is spark… a bond…

He’d never had a bond. He’d never even merged with any bot, so of course it had been difficult to detect such a weak one when he’d no idea what he was feeling for.

Now that he knew, however, his next attempts were easier… he found that link faster, until he started to be able to feel the feint pull… he knew that he could find them.

* * *

 

They had left in the early afternoon on the pretence of doing a border patrol together. It would be a while before Optimus made them check in. They had plenty of time to follow the tug on Bumblebee’s spark.

He drove slowly for once, having to half concentrate on focussing inward while still driving safely. Eventually he led them to the docks.

It didn’t take them long to bargain a boat-ride over to Dinobot island. Once there, Bumblebee frowned, feeling for his creations. Realising that he had only started thinking of them as such since Sari had asked if he really felt Black Arachnia was fit to take care of them.

“Why would she come back here? She ran AWAY from here…”

Prowl made a thoughtful noise at Bumblebee’s question, helping Sari off the boat. “Probably because we wouldn’t expect her to. Neither Optimus nor I thought she would come back here either. Apart from the fact she doesn’t want to be found, her experiences with Prometheus Black in his lab were less than pleasant.”

“Maybe she’s not in his lab, just a different part of the island?” Sari piped up, being transferred to Bumblebee’s shoulder to ride along as he walked.

The scout frowned in thought. “Mmmm, could be right about that. C’mon, it’s easier to feel them now… this way.”

Bumblebee walked into the forest, Prowl trailing, all three of them as quiet as possible.

They knew that Black Arachnia wasn’t the only one they had to worry about here. The Dinobots, as thick as they were, could detect the smallest of intrusions on their sanctuary. And if they were still loyal to _her_ , it would make their mission that much harder.

It wasn’t until they reached the foot of the dormant volcano that there was any sign of the prehistoric pain-in-the-afts.

Well, ONE of them anyway. But since it was Grimlock that came charging through the trees towards them, one was enough.

Bumblebee set Sari down and transformed out his stingers. But Prowl was already intercepting, stepping out and raising his servos. “Grimlock! It’s ME, it’s your FRIEND!”

“RRRAAAAAH Me Grimlock not supposed to let any bot on island! Me Grimlock protect spider lady and small spider babies! You Prowl not go any further!”

Bumblebee was frozen in place behind Prowl as the cyber-ninja continued trying to calm the tail-thrashing behemoth.

“Grimlock, please… we have a very important mission here-“

“Spider babies?”

The Dinobot’s helm turned to the yellow mech as he murmured the words. “You mean… they hatched?... I probably… should have expected that, I guess, but… what do they look like?”

The giant saurian turned one beady blue optic and then the other, sizing the little yellow bot up and snorting.

“Why you want know? You not spider lady’s friend. GRIMLOCK spider-lady’s friend. Grimlock spider-lady’s FAVOURITE. Me Grimlock not think it any of your business.”

Bumblebee revved and stormed over, servos back out and balled up angrily. Prowl failed to catch him before he jumped up and hooked one of Grimlock’s nostrils.

The dinobot was so shocked that his head jerked down and he didn’t immediately resist the yellow mech’s hold on him. His wide, dumb optic stared at the scowl and dark blue of the little bot’s gaze.

“You _listen here_ you oversized animatronic Jurassic Park knockoff. I slagging carried those spider babies. I have the protoform pitting to prove it. I have the valve scarring to prove I slaggin’ well pushed them out too, so don’t you DARE tell me it’s none of my business. It’s ALL of my business. And I’m gonna go take my spider babies BACK and no oversized tyrannosaurus smelter is gonna STOP me, you GOT THAT?”

Grimlock just stared at him, stunned. “Uuuh… o-Ok… you want me Grimlock show you way to spider-lady?”

“No, I can find her myself, just don’t get in the way.” Bee let go of his nostril, still glaring, and proceeded to storm off around the still half crouched and very shell-shocked looking dinobot.

Prowl scrambled to pick up Sari and follow on with a brief pat to the bewildered T-rex’s flank and quick apology.

Well, that was the first carrier-typical behaviour Prowl had really seen from Bumblebee… and a tiny part of him swelled with pride to witness it.

* * *

 

When they found the cave, Bumblebee’s temper had cooled, and he was much warier than before.

It was a natural fissure in the rock-face on the inside of the crater. It was on the opposite end to Black’s lab, and the entrance was ringed with shiny, stringy web.

Sari took up her post as look-out, and Prowl led the way into the cave, he and Bumblebee exchanging the barest of whispers as they crept deep into the darkness.

They did their best not to touch the walls, aware that the sticky webs were probably there to snag intruders like them. It would be the perfect security measure after all, anything without lights would try to guide themselves using the cave wall, immediately getting themselves stuck.

The corpses of three or four small animals showed Black Arachnia didn’t bother freeing said intruders either.

Bumblebee had to take point when they came to a branching in the tunnel, feeling for his bitlets almost effortlessly now.

They continued slowly down the winding path, dimmed lights leading the way until sounds reached their audials.

He heard them before he saw them, the soft clicking sending shudders down his spinal-strut as he turned the corner and found a chamber lit by sunlight. The roof showed it as more of an open pit than a chamber, and as he got closer, he saw movement.

He froze still in the shadow of the tunnel, headlights off, and stared. He could feel Prowl stilling behind him as well.

In the light they watched as tiny robot spiders skittered around, some stringing threads behind them as they dangled from the walls, others digging at the floor and chasing after tiny bugs.

Bumblebee counted and frowned. Five? Why were there only five? He knew there had been 6 eggs, so where was-

He nearly jumped as he felt something touch his pede. A servo flew over his mouth as his over-bright optics alighted on…

It was teeny, and four golden optics looked up at him. It didn’t look the same as the others… Like it was only half a spider, with a set of chunky little forearms and stubby little legs, and then a set of skinnier secondary arms coming from its chest.

Its audials stuck out awkwardly from its helm and a grill covered the area where the rest had pincery mouths. It tilted its helm and chirred at him.

As shock turned to some sort of horrified fascination, Bumblebee reached down and picked it up. It chirred at him, wiggling a little thorax he hadn’t seen when it had been sitting.

Where the others were all purple and black with hints of gold or yellow, this one was a mismatch mottle of yellow and purple parts.

And despite his initial reaction to its monstrous appearance… Bumblebee could feel the pull on his spark. It was HIS. He could never reject this… thing. It was a thing yeah, but it was HIS.

“If you’re that desperate, you can HAVE that one. Five drones is more than enough for me. Always bound to be runts and mishaps with this kind of process, it’s not an exact science.”

Bumblebee clutched the little thing to his chest, nearly scared out of his plating when her voice floated across the chamber.

Black Arachnia stepped from the shadows of the tunnel on the other side of the sunlit pit. The five spiderling bots swarmed to her pedes, clicking and scuttling.

Behind him, Bumblebee heard Prowl’s engine give a muted, angry rev. A servo rested on his shoulder.

“I came for all of them. You can’t… you can’t just _use_ me and expect me not to come after them, you’re not _fit_ to raise them…” his snarled words petered off as she threw her helm back and laughed.

“Ooooh that’s just precious… you think they’re actually proper sparklings, don’t you? I must’ve given you TOO much venom, don’t you remember what I told you little mech? These are my _drones._ Sure, they have sparks, but so do turbofoxes, and they’ve never been known for their sentience. You poor, sentimental little autobot. There’s nothing to _raise.”_

Bumblebee stared at her, horrified as she snapped her digits and the five little spider bots all looked at him, hissing and forming a line in front of her.

“But… but I could FEEL them… in my spark, I could…”

“Well of COURSE you can, they’ve got tiny pieces of your spark in them. But you’re not feeling much, are you? You know where they are, you have a vague approximation of their mindset, but there’s nothing _more_ to it. No thoughts, no real feelings, no reaching back to you.” Her voice was almost sympathetic. Almost.

She was honestly surprised he had the will AND the audacity to come after the eggs. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t TOLD him she would come back for them.

“But… no… NO… how can… how can you just…” he shook his helm, backing up as the spiderlings advanced slowly and mock-lunged at him. The one he held curled up against his chestplates and clicked, frightened.

It was _frightened._ He could _feel_ that.

“I can feel THIS one… he has emotions, he’s AFRAID of you!”

She wore a thoughtful look at that before shrugging. “Hey, like I said, aberrations happen. You can keep him, he never does what I tell him to and can’t hold his own against the rest of them. I think it’s best you take what you can get from this and go. You know, after all, in many spider species, the fathers become food for the females, or in turn for their young.”

Prowl tugged Bumblebee’s shoulder to get him to back up as one of the spiderlings tried to bite for his leg.

“Actually he would technically be the female in this situation, given he carried.” He snarled at Black Arachnia, who scoffed.

“Well, if they try to eat me, that’s my problem, now isn’t it? Run along little bot. And don’t feel too bad, if they don’t love you it’s only because they don’t have any concept of love. Which is just as well, because fawning Dinobots is bad enough.”

Bumblebee staggered back as Prowl tried to drag him away. His optics tore from Black Arachnia’s cold, indifferent ones.

The spiderlings hissed and clicked furiously, leaping at them and raising their legs in threat. He felt nothing from them but a need to obey her. The only one he could actually truly feel anything more from was the one in his arms.

Spark clenching with a sensation he couldn’t quite describe, he turned and ran with Prowl until the clicking and hissing was far behind them.

Until they made their way out of the black, sticky labyrinth of tunnels, bursting into the sunlight and hearing Sari call out to them.

Bumblebee clutched the tiny bug-bot in his arms, face-plate stony as Prowl diverted Sari’s questioning and picked her up.

“Optimus called! I tried to tell him we were at the park, but he said we weren’t on the monitors and grilled me and I kinda told him where we were and… how come you only have one? Wasn’t there six?”

She babbled, squirming to look over Prowl’s shoulder as he held her in his palms. When she caught sight of Bumblebee’s expression, any further questions died in her throat.

“What did Optimus say?” Prowl asked quietly, jogging through the trees smoothly with Bumblebee flanking him closely.

“Um. He tried really hard not to swear, made a lot of angry noises, then said he’s on his way here. That was only like, a minute before you guys came out though, so we’ll probably get back to the city before he makes it to the docks. I mean, it is peak hour.”

Prowl just nodded. They said very little to the curious skipper of their boat, who had been waiting to take them back. He didn’t care how long they took, since they were paying him a barrel of gasoline an hour, and that would keep his little fishing trawler’s engine going for weeks. He was actually a little disappointed they’d been so quick.

Sari wanted badly to keep pressing for details, but the sadness in Bumblebee’s optics as he looked down at the one tiny bot was enough to keep her silent.

The little thing was cute, if not terribly mismatched. It chirred and clicked at Bumblebee, patting at his chestplates and crooning.

The yellow bot tentatively rubbed the top of its little helm with a finger. It made the most adorable sound he’d ever heard.

Well… that was it. He was gone. He knew it too, he knew this thing… this little mashed up mangle of parts was going to have him wrapped around its tiny digits and he couldn’t do anything about it.

And strangely… it was a comfort. The ache in his spark, thinking about the rest of them, the bots he’d given life that would really never know what it was to BE alive… the ache was soothed by the fact that at the very least, this ONE little offshoot of his spark seemed to hold an inkling of sentience.

And better it be with him than with _Her._ She didn’t care about it. She wasn’t going to look after it. She would have let its siblings tear it apart, and the thought made him sick. He hugged the tiny bug closer.

No. No, he didn’t care how much of a monstrosity it might turn out to be, this was HIS. And he liked it. He’d take care of it.

* * *

 

Sure enough, Optimus had managed to get through peak hour without a problem (possibly with a little siren abuse, though he’d never admit to it), and he was waiting on the docks with arms crossed and scowl firmly in place when they got there.

Ratchet stood behind him with a look of weary disapproval, but it seemed as if he’d expected a stunt like this far more than their leader.

Optimus was ready to chew them out… until he caught sight of the scout and the thing in his arms. Any reprimands he had died on his lips.

Ratchet made a noise of surprise and wandered over as they got off the boat. Prowl busied himself getting the skipper’s details so he could send the gasoline to him. Which conveniently delayed him from suffering the Prime’s ire.

Bumblebee just stood there and let Ratchet approach. The medic looked over the bitlet curiously as it curled up and tried to hide against the yellow chestplates.

“…Just the one?”

Bumblebee nodded, optics dim. “The rest were... they were drones. They just do what she says. She didn’t want this one, he was different.”

“He sure is different alright. Looks healthy though. Come on, better get you and him back to the plant so I can take some scans and see what he eats.”

Bumblebee just nodded, petting the teeny helm again before carefully transforming around it.

* * *

 

When they all arrived back at the plant, he had a hell of a job trying to transform up again. It had bedded down in his driver’s seat and wouldn’t move. He couldn’t get it back into his servos and his seats folded into subspace when he transformed, which was not somewhere he wanted the bitlet going.

Prowl ended up coaxing it out with some gentle clicking, Bumblebee sighing in relief when he was back in root mode, quickly taking the bitty-bug back and following Ratchet to the medbay.

A few scans and a hissing, unhappy bitlet later, and Ratchet had discovered that not only did the sparling take regular energon and oil and everything else they could ingest, but it could process raw metals.

He discovered this less from his scans and more from the bitlet stealing a tiny torch he’d been using to look at his optics and eating it. It spat out the LED light bulb, but the rest of the torch was gone.

Bumblebee, despite his less than stellar mood, found this a particularly endearing trait. Until the bitlet later swallowed his bolt-tuning wrench. Sure it was only a piece of standard maintenance equipment, but he’d rather it not get eaten.

Within two days, the base had been converted to something more bitty-bug proof. And safe. It had a habit of climbing walls and refusing to come down, not to mention it chewed wires and tore apart spare tyres for fun.

Within the week, Bumblebee was officially glad that he only had the one bitlet rather than 6. He honestly did not think he could handle more than one.

* * *

 

A month later, Bumblebee sat in front of the television with Bulkhead beside him, Sari on the arm of the couch to his other side, and the bitty in his lap.

The buglet, as they’d taken to calling him, was mesmerised by TV. It was the only thing other than petting which kept him still and calm.

Prowl wandered in, making a noise at their choice of TV channel. “Are you sure monster trucks are a good thing for him to be watching?”

Bumblebee rolled his optics. “It keeps him way quieter than nature documentaries.”

“Except ones about bugs. He sat there purring the whole way through that one about scarab beetles the other day.” Bulkhead murmured, reaching over and carefully scratching the top of the bitlet’s helm, making it chirr.

Bee grinned at the sound. He loved that sound. It was worth the chaos and destruction the tiny thing caused on a daily basis.

“Mmmm. Had any thoughts about names recently Bumblebee?” Prowl asked quietly, studiously ignoring the giant truck crushing a rack of motorcycles on the screen.

Bumblebee shrugged. “I dunno, I was kinda thinking um… Bob.”

Three heads turned and a chorus of “Bob?” was uttered in question by all of them.

He looked up at them, blinking. “Uh. Yeah? What’s wrong with Bob?”

“Well, it’s not… very cybertronian?” Bulkhead murmured.

“It doesn’t really sum up his main features or play on any of his idiosyncrasies” Prowl mused, more curious than judgemental.

“Where’d you get Bob from?” Sari asked blankly.

Bee shrugged again. “Just kinda came to mind. And who says it doesn’t sum up his… whatever, he was bobbing his head watching a moth flying around my room the other day. So, yeah… Bob.”

As if realising it was being addressed, the buglet blinked up at its carrier and pated on his arm for more pets. Bumblebee grinned. “See, HE likes it. Bob.”

Sari giggled and hopped down onto Bumblebee’s lap to rub behind the buglet’s audials, making it whirr-chirr and flop down on its front.

“Bob it is then” Prowl chuckled.

 

 

 


End file.
